Tragedy has struck in Lebanon.
Irish peacekeeper Private Seán Rooney (24) from Donegal via Dundalk, Co Louth, was killed and trooper Shane Kearney (22) from Killeagh, Co Cork, seriously injured when their vehicle came under attack late on Wednesday night.
The “Leb” was always a difficult place to judge. The trips with regular bombardments by the Israelis and a lot of time spent running to bunkers with innards turning to water were often the times when everyone came home in one piece.
Then there were trips when all seemed calm and a rise in local tensions or a stray mortar round, a burst of machine gun fire or a one-off tank shell fired with malignant intent would result in a piper playing over the grave of another Irish soldier who had made the ultimate sacrifice.
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In recent years that uncertainty of things going rather jarringly from nought to 60 had diminished. The places where death might be sprang upon an Irish soldier were considered to be on more “dangerous” terrain.
The foliage of the rubber tree plantations outside of Monrovia in Liberia, the arid plains of Chad or the killing fields of Bosnia were to be the stuff of nightmares for the staff officers of the overseas section in Defence Forces’ headquarters.
There have been many shifts and changes, from our early forays in to peacekeeping in the Congo as an under-equipped and strategically naive nation to our more experienced and hardened approach
There were the select few who braved Afghanistan to participate in a mission that undoubtedly saved countless Afghan civilian lives and many European and American servicemen from death by improvised explosive devices.
But, despite Africa being etched in our national mindset due to the sacrifices we made in the Congo and the heroics at Jadotville, the Middle East was to stay a point on Ireland’s military compass.
The United Nations Disengagement Observer Force (UNDOF) mission to the perilous Golan Heights in Syria was the one were virtual war-fighting seemed the order of the day. Not that long ago it fell to the Irish to plan and execute the rescue mission of the Filipino peacekeepers who had been surrounded by bands of Islamic extremists.
In fact in the years after that mission in 2014, the details of which have yet to see the full light of day, Irish soldiers were to come under fire consistently. Had it not been for the government’s investment in Mowag armoured personnel carriers a number of Irish soldiers would surely have died from landmine explosions and heavy machine gun fire.
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The Syrian mission proved why investment in weapons such as the Javelin anti-tank missiles were essential tools for peacekeeping.
We also learned how important it is to have the right kinds of allies in peacekeeping. Whether that was the Israeli assistance in the Golan, French intelligence and air support in Chad or American trans-world airlift capacity for the Congo, peacekeeping is not done in splendid isolation. For every element of soft power there is a matching hard power element required.
The dictum of former US president Theodore Roosevelt, “speak softly and carry a big stick” applies when it comes to peacekeeping.
Throughout all of this and particularly during my own time in the Army and in Lebanon, we prided ourselves on our loyalty to the people of Lebanon, the real victims of war
There have been many shifts and changes, from our early forays in to peacekeeping in the Congo as an under-equipped and strategically naive nation to our more experienced and hardened approach.
When we pulled out of the United Nations Interim Force in Lebanon (UNIFIL) in the early 2000s, we had been holding the line continuously there since 1978. In fact, Irish boots first went on the Lebanese ground in 1958 when a team of unarmed Irish officers were deployed to take part in UN truce supervision.
It was not until 1978 when about 600 all ranks of the first all arms Irish infantry battalion got deployed to Lebanon fully armed.
The “Leb” was in a “jocker”, to use a military term. Suffering internally from a civil war initially between Christians and Muslims, later to descend into sub-wars between factions within both Christian and Muslim communities, Lebanon was now facing off against Israel.
And to complicate things further, this was not the state of Lebanon declaring war on Israel, but Muslim militia groups who had become the de facto rulers of the south of Lebanon launching missile attacks and raids into Israel.
The die had been cast earlier when the Palestinian Liberation Organisation used Lebanese territory to launch terrorist attacks into Israel. The Israelis reacted just as viciously, launching air strikes and full-on land assaults into Lebanese territory.
Indeed, Israel was to invade Lebanon twice during Ireland’s tenure with UNIFIL. Irish troops were caught between Israeli tank squadrons and Amal militia missile batteries.
The real and consistent losers here were the Lebanese people, particularly the people of south Lebanon who continued to try to seek out a living from the hard, arid, scrabble-landscape that somewhat resembles a sun-scorched Connemara.
Robert Fisk, a journalist who was to become a regular visitor to Irish positions in south Lebanon, wrote about the bombardment of Quana in 1978 in Pity the Nation.
He talked about being surrounded as “a series of great orange flames bubbled around us, the sound of explosions so loud that the inside of my head hurt for hours afterwards”.
Little did we know that those words would become the reality for generations of Irish soldiers over the next few decades.
The Battle of At-Tiri in 1980 saw the single biggest occasion for the awarding of Medals for Gallantry (MMG), the Irish version of the Victoria Cross or Congressional Medal of Honour.
In that action, a small Irish platoon of soldiers under the command of Lt Tom Ahearne held the line against a superior number of well-armed Christian militia who were trying to push the UN out of the village of At-Tiri.
Not alone have UN forces been harassed and attacked, they have been blackguarded and smeared
Unlike the UN force years later at Srebrenica or Rwanda, the UN held its ground. Fisk was there to document it. A little-known battle was fought to protect the locals from militia aggression.
Throughout all of this and particularly during my own time in the Army and in Lebanon, we prided ourselves on our loyalty to the people of Lebanon, the real victims of war.
Over the decades each Irish battalion adopted the orphanage at Tibnine in south Lebanon as its special project. Money was raised and extensions were built, but more importantly the Irish soldier acted like an adoptive parent to those young victims of conflict. Indeed, my cadet classmate Mick O’Brien was to spend his free time – like many others – teaching the orphans English.
But now we see a new kind of warfare emerge in the “Leb”, one where some of the people there have turned against us. The Hezbollah militia say the death of Pte Rooney was nothing to do with them.
But nevertheless it happened in an area they control and against a background of stand-off and intimidation of UN forces over the last year and more. Not alone have UN forces been harassed and attacked, they have been blackguarded and smeared.
These are new tactics, in a new kind of warfare where it is not clear who is pulling the strings. The Hezbollah have a history of acting as “cat’s paw” for a variety of other powers. We must not forget that in the ensuing investigation.
We owe it to Pte Rooney and all the others who have shed their blood on Lebanese soil.
Declan Power is an independent security and defence analyst and a former Irish soldier who has served in the Middle East and Africa